


making it better

by gotham_ruaidh



Series: Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire & Jamie [10]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 19:35:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5017696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotham_ruaidh/pseuds/gotham_ruaidh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine if faith was carried to term and Claire went back with her on the eve of culloden</p>
            </blockquote>





	making it better

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt sent in to [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/131354774049/imagine-if-faith-was-carried-to-term-and-claire) on tumblr. I'm posting my Imagine prompts here on AO3 for easier reading and in case there's anyone here who might not be on tumblr. Do feel free to check out the blog and send in prompts if you have more ideas for our favorite pair!

Jamie exhaled against Claire’s lips, desperately trying – failing – to hold back tears. 

It was decided – she was going back through the stones. Their absurd mission to stop Charles Stuart had failed. At this moment, just miles away, the foolish man-child’s troops – most no more than poor, untrained crofters – were camped, waiting for their chief’s next orders. Waiting to be led to their deaths. 

He couldn’t stop it – but he’d be _damned_ if he couldn’t save his family. Claire – and the child they’d just discovered that slept within her womb. And Faith – bonny Faith – their miracle child. 

Claire locked her ankles around his hips as the final shudder left her body. Desperately she kissed him. He yielded his mouth to hers, tasting a mix of salt and the sweet that was her. Was his wife – his heart – the better half of his soul. 

They’d arrived at the half-ruined cottage at the foot of Craigh Na Dun just before nightfall, Claire wanting to settle 18-month-old Faith so that she and Jamie could have as much time alone as possible on this, their last night together. After filling Faith’s tiny belly with an apple and safely wrapping her in a nest of cloaks before the fire, Claire had shrugged out of her stays and shift and wordlessly wrapped herself around Jamie. He had removed his shirt and held her close under the shelter of his Fraser plaid.

That could have been minutes or hours ago – he did not know and did not care. For time stopped when he and Claire became one flesh – just as he knew that time would cease to go on once they parted. 

Claire hiccupped a sob against Jamie’s mouth. He swallowed the sound, trying so desperately to soothe her. Her fingers tangled in the thick hair at the base of his neck, pulling him even closer. He couldn’t breathe – would never breathe again – for she was the air in his lungs. 

“Mama?” 

One last, quick kiss and Jamie withdrew from Claire, easing up on one elbow to look over at Faith. She was sitting up in her nest, slowly blinking her deep blue eyes, dark curls – Claire’s curls – mussed from sleep. 

“Mama? Da?” 

“Here, _a chiusle_.” Jamie extended a hand and Faith pushed herself upright, toddled a few short steps, and settled in the hollow between her parents. Claire held Faith to her chest so that she could face Jamie, and he tucked the plaid over her, sealing her in the pocket of warmth, holding his family close and protecting them in the only way he could. 

“Better?” 

Faith nodded and settled back against Claire. Her dark brows furrowed, and she reached one sticky hand to Jamie’s cheek. He closed his eyes, savoring her soft touch. 

“Da sad?” 

Jamie swallowed. How could he possibly explain heartbreak in a way that his wee daughter could understand? 

But if he was to endure this sadness and pain so that she would never have to – then he must. She was worth it – every bit of it. 

He opened his eyes to meet hers – so much like his own. “Aye. Da is sad.” 

Faith tilted her head, clearly thinking. Then slowly, gently, she rubbed her tiny hand against his damp cheek and kissed the tip of his nose – just as he would always do for her when she suffered a bruise or skinned knee. 

“All better?” 

Over Faith’s curls, Jamie watched fresh tears slip from Claire’s eyes. She released Faith and Jamie held his daughter tight, relishing her small, soft solidness. 

“Oh, lass. Ye have always made it better.”


End file.
